Dro: I love this chapter. It sets up so much for the rest of the story. Take the hints, guys. They are there! The usual request: read and review! And by the way, the Q&A thread for this universe are up in my forum. Just head to my profile for the link.

Chapter Summary: Parallel! Alfred worries about his Matthew. Meanwhile, Arthur wakes up in a strange place.

Warnings: None.

Disclaimer: Nope. No. And every negation of yes I can think of. I still do not own APH.

Alfred stared at his broken phone, and then to the dent in the side of the plane where his formerly intact phone had made contact earlier. He swallowed, taking in sharp breaths. They had Matt. They had to have gotten him. He fidgeted, staring out the window. He was still several hours from London. What the hell was he going to do? By the time he got there, Matt would be long gone. How was he going to find his brother? First Arthur, now Matt? He put his face in his hands, trying to ward off tears. This couldn't be happening. Not after four years. Four years since they'd defeated Russia…and now everything had fallen apart in a matter of hours. No, days. Because Matt had said Arthur's house had already been burned down for a while. Which meant they'd had Arthur for a while now. A pang of guilt hit his chest. He should've known something was wrong when Arthur hadn't answered his calls.

But he had just passed it off as nothing. What kind of fool was he? To think that just because they'd defeated Russia meant this was over? He was no smarter than he'd been before the war apparently. God, I can't believe this. What if he was too late? What if the other him was forced to comply with Yao and ended up dead? Or what if something went wrong and they killed Matt—both of them—and Arthur? How could he possibly live with himself if he let that happen?

He leaned back in his seat, stifling dry sobs. He had to keep himself together. He couldn't fall apart here. He needed to think of a plan. He stared up at the dull white ceiling of the plane and sighed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the flight attendants cowering behind their curtain. He'd scared the hell out of them earlier when he'd destroyed his phone. He felt guilty for it, but he couldn't bring himself to remedy the situation. His mind was too consumed with the possible outcomes of this situation. There were so many lives at stake already. And not only had so many people been kidnapped by Yao, but somewhere out there was the other Arthur, both Italies, and the other Germany. He let his arm hang over his eyes. This was almost as bad as the actual war with Russia. And if he didn't handle this probably, it could very well end up worse.

Arthur. The name stuck in his mind. Arthur's house had been burned down. And he'd just gotten used to it. Alfred's heart ached. Arthur was out there somewhere, left to his own devices in Yao's…prison or dungeon or wherever the hell he was keeping these people. He could very well be hurt. Yao could be torturing him. And that was another question. What did Yao want? What was the purpose of kidnapping Arthur and then traveling through the dimensions to kidnap the other Matthew and Russia? Obviously, as Matthew said, Yao wanted the other America as some sort of sacrifice, but for what? What was he planning?

"…Sir?"

He froze at the frightened female voice. "Yes?"

"Um, we were wondering if you check something for us."

He peaked out from under his arm. "What?"

She swallowed nervously. "Well, about an hour ago, we heard a crash in the food storage closet. We thought maybe some trays had fallen over, but when we went to open the door, we found it jammed. One of the racks has fallen over. Do you think you could help us, sir? I'm terribly sorry if I'm being a bother."

Alfred almost made a cruel retort, then he came to his senses and realized that these poor women hadn't done anything to him, and he really needed to keep his anger in check. He nodded slowly and rose to his feet, ignoring the bitter taste in his mouth. "Show me the way." They took him back through the curtain and pointed to a closed door. He nodded in understanding and walked up to it. Another flight attended fluttered past the curtain and whispered to the others.

"We'll be right back, sir." The same woman said, trying to sound calm.

"Yeah, okay." He mumbled in return as they all filed out. He pulled the door's handle and tried to open it, but it was obvious there was something jammed on the other side's handle, something that wouldn't let it open. Through the small gap that the door would give, he could see a fallen rack shining through. Stuck on the handle. He scoffed. Fixing this would probably mean would pulling the door right off its hinges, but if that's what they wanted….

He stiffened as he heard something moving behind the door. Had another attendant been in there? Was she hurt? He watched as the rack moved out of way, and the pressure against the door suddenly lessened. Uh… Someone pushed on the door, and Alfred pulled it open the rest of the way.

To reveal Arthur standing on the other side.

Arthur groaned his way back into consciousness. His head throbbed continuously, and he felt like he'd been hit by a brick. Something wet was running down his face, but he couldn't see it due to the lack of light in the room. He was also aware of something heavy laying on top of him. He reached up and touched it, trying to figure out what exactly it was. It appeared to be some kind of metal rack, off of which several trays of what Arthur guessed was food had fallen. He groaned. Great. Is this what always happened when you traveled through dimensions?

Suddenly, an alarm went off his head. He remembered their Feliciano's interruption at the last second. He was adept enough at magic to know that if a spell meant for four was used for five, it could have some hefty consequences. If he was here—wherever here was—then where was everyone else? They could have all been separated. They could be scattered all over the world. His pulse picked up. They could have been dropped in the middle of the ocean or in space or in the distant past, for all he knew. He prayed everyone else was safe, and he prayed harder—and knowingly in vain—that they were all nearby.

The door to the small room opened slightly, but the metal handle was caught on the bars of the rack, and it wouldn't budge any further. Arthur could only hope the person behind that door was willing to help him. He really didn't need to be arrested as a thief or something. He didn't have time for such nonsense. He sat up, pushing the heavy rack off of his now bruised body. A wave of dizziness hit him, and he realized the liquid on his head was blood from a cut near his hairline. Wonderful. He sat the rack back up properly, hesitating slightly before pushing open the door.

Alfred stood on the other side.

They stared at each other silently for several seconds, Arthur more relieved than he'd been since Alfred appeared back in his house after their last adventure. Alfred seemed to share his sentiments. One moment, he was just standing there wide-eyed at the smaller man in front of him, then he pulled Arthur roughly forward by the arm into a heated kiss. Arthur's heart skipped a beat, his pulse instantly accelerating. He kissed Alfred back with everything he had. He found himself up against the wall, their tongues battling for dominance. He instinctively wrapped his legs around Alfred's waist and pulled him closer. Alfred kissed him fiercely, as if he thought Arthur was liable to vanish at a moment's notice. Arthur could say he honestly felt the same way.

It over a minute into their impromptu make out session when they both seemed to realized something wasn't quite right. Alfred was rougher than usual, and while Arthur was nearly willing to chalk that up to the situation, he felt like something was wrong here. As if on cue, Alfred pulled back, face flushed, lips swollen. His blue eyes were wide again, as if he'd realized something that Arthur hadn't.

"You…" He blushed so hard he was almost purple. "You're not my Arthur, are you?"

And then it all clicked into place. Arthur was sure his face color matched Alfred's. The other Alfred's. Oh, how stupid could he have been! He'd seen Alfred and immediately assumed it was his Alfred, knowing full well there were two of them in this world. "Ah…" He really couldn't think of anything to say. He'd just passionately made out with the wrong Alfred. He had the oddest feeling this moment was going to come back to haunt him. He untangled his legs from around Alfred's waist and coughed. "I…uh…I'm sorry."

"Uh…no. Don't be." He seemed to be at an equal loss. "My fault. I should've known it wasn't my Arthur. That was stupid of me." He looked sheepish. So much like Arthur's own Alfred. But there was something different about this one. He had an air of maturity and wisdom that the other Alfred lacked. And Arthur felt pity when he realized it had probably come about from this America's destruction at the hands of Soviet Russia.

"Sir, did you—Oh my!" An attendant yelped as she saw Arthur standing there. There were more of them behind her, all equally bewildered. Alfred's eyes darted back and forth.

"Ah, miss, could you get a first aid kit? My friend has a cut on his head."

She looked immensely confused, but she backed away and headed toward a closed compartment. The other women stood there mystified. A few minutes later, Arthur was seated next to Alfred. He now knew exactly where he'd ended up. On a private US jet heading for London. How the hell that happened would always be a mystery to him. The odds of him ending up on the other Alfred's plane…He shook his head, then winced as Alfred dabbed the cut on hit forehand with alcohol. They said nothing to one another as Alfred patched up Arthur's wound, and then they just sat there awkwardly. What were they supposed to say now?

They were both mortified that they'd made out with the parallel version of their lovers, and they both hoped neither would ever mention the incident again. Finally, Alfred broke the silence. "I should probably fill you in on the situation."

"Huh? You know about Yao?"

Alfred nodded. He repeated what Matthew had told him, including his suspicions that his own brother was also in Yao's clutches now. Arthur chewed thoughtfully on his lip. It seemed that whatever Yao wanted, he needed the other Arthur's help. Yao had gone to some extreme measure here, and he was certainly tempting fate by putting so many powerful nations at risk. This situation just kept getting worse and worse. Arthur was worried about his own Alfred now. Alfred was all alone in London with Yao's henchmen prowling around. He hoped they got there in time. If Alfred was captured...

Both men were stiff and nervous until the plane touched down. Then they were off, heading immediately for the conference hotel. Arthur stayed on the lookout for anyone who remotely looked like they could be working for Yao, but there were too many people to tell. They entered through the back door of the hotel, going through the kitchen of the hotel's restaurant, hoping to avoid being noticed. Granted, several other nations were probably already milling about the hotel, so the odds of them going completely unnoticed were slim. They headed up to Matthew's assigned hotel room, finding it locked.

"Stand back." Alfred ordered.

Arthur knew that tone, and he backed dup several feet.

Alfred kicked the door right off its hinges, and it landed in the middle of the very empty room. Arthur felt his heart sink. His Alfred was no longer here. He slowly entered the room, looking for any sign Alfred could have left just in case. It didn't take him long to find it. He opened the closet door to reveal a note taped to the inside of the door. A note written in code. A code he and Alfred had created decades ago, during the second World War. His throat tightened when he read it.

"Paris…" He said breathily. "He's gone to Paris."

Alfred's eyes widened. "Isn't that where he's supposed to give himself up to Yao?"

Arthur could only nod. Alfred wouldn't do it. He'd promised Arthur he wouldn't do it. But if Alfred found himself without an alternative…Arthur knew he would break that promise in order to save his brother. "We have to go to Paris. Now. We have to find him."

"Yeah. I know." Alfred picked up his bag. "Let's go."

Arthur smiled wearily. This Alfred wasn't so different from his own. Still so heroic. Still so daring. They were back out of hotel in a matter of minutes and heading toward the airport. As far as Arthur could tell, no one was following them, which he took as a good sign. They were on the plane within the hour, Alfred calling in an emergency situation with the crew. Granted, he didn't tell them what the emergency was. Which was, of course, a smart idea. They didn't need to get humans needlessly killed for this.

Arthur sat straight-backed in his chair the entire flight. He didn't want to admit it out loud, but he was terrified for Alfred's safety. With every second that ticked by, he became more and more sure Alfred had already given himself up to Yao, and that he was on his way to a certain death. His breathing became uneven, and all he could picture was Alfred's sad and worried face the moments before the spell that brought them here had all gone wrong. He couldn't imagine never seeing Alfred again. How could he live without Alfred?

A hand settled on top of his own. He opened his eyes, not realizing he had closed them, not realizing he had started to cry, and gazed down at the familiar hand on top of his. The other Alfred was still staring out the window, but Arthur could plainly see the worry on his face. He suddenly felt selfish. He was letting himself break down in front of this Alfred, who was missing his own Arthur and his brother as well. He had just as many problems as Arthur did. Arthur found himself leaning over and resting his head against Alfred's shoulder. Alfred stiffened for a brief moment, then relaxed into it, a small smile of relief gracing his face. Arthur swore to himself he'd keep it together from now on. If this Alfred would support him, he would support this Alfred in return.

Dro: This chapter and the next chapter pretty much set up a good portion of the rest of the story.

Next Chapter: Alfred and Matt try to figure out what to do. Matt makes a phone call that relieves his brother's fear for him. After the phone call, Matt's fears come back with a vengeance, and he fails to prevent a desperate Alfred from acting rashly.